


The Fire Triangle: Part II - Oxidizer

by Merc_Marten



Series: The Fire Triangle -- A Zootopia Fanfiction [3]
Category: Zootopia (2016), crime - Fandom
Genre: Animals, Anthropomorphic, Conspiracy, Gen, Mystery, Riots, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merc_Marten/pseuds/Merc_Marten
Summary: Nick and Judy have gone their separate ways, and the arson attacks plaguing Zootopia have abated.  But soon, a new peril will arise, threatening to turn the city into a war-zone, a menace that will quickly become fursonal for Judy Hopps.  Nick Wilde, meanwhile, will journey to a distant city in pursuit of an elusive criminal--and find himself face to face with a monstrous power-grab scheme.   But, is it already too late to stop it?
Relationships: Judy Hopps/Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps/Original Male Character(s), Nick Wilde & Nick Wilde's Mother, Nick Wilde & Original Character(s)
Series: The Fire Triangle -- A Zootopia Fanfiction [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/831267
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Continued from The Fire Triangle Part I - Fuel

**Disclaimer:** Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

* * *

**The Fire Triangle**

* * *

**Part Two:**

**Oxidizer**

* * *

**_A little knowledge is a dangerous thing_ **

**Alexander Pope**

**[]**

**_Knowledge is power_ **

**Roger Bacon**

* * *

Entr'Acte, Part 2  
<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWyhjKjHnAA>

**Prologue:**

Sometime you hit the lottery...and sometimes the lottery hits _you._

There is no way…no WAY that rusty bucket of bolts should still be able to move; the odds must be something like a gajillion-to-one. And yet there she goes, rolling down the track with his assistants in hot pursuit.

A sickly-bittersweet odor fills the air; spilled creosote and the ozone tang of an overheating transformer. The screech of the wheels, steel moving against steel for maybe the first time in decades, is like feedback from an amplifier as big as a Stonehedge slab. Before the rogue sheep can cover his ears, the noise lowers to a deep, moaning rumble, and fades away into the dim red lights of a tunnel. Swirling dust and motes of rust sting his eyes like a thousand miniscule pinpricks. He forces them to stay open, trying to see what's happening at the far end of the abandoned Metro station. Jesse _just_ might make it on board the train-car before it gets away; Woolter's chances are a bit more uncertain.

As for Doug, he knows that he's too far away to catch it…and so he just stands there, listening as the sound becomes a stillborn silence. He tries to reassure himself. Not to worry; this is only a minor setback. His enforcers will stop the train and get his laboratory back.

And when they do, the bunny who tried to jack it is going to have a _very_ unpleasant encounter with a third rail.

But…who was she? In the brief glimpse he'd caught of her, she'd looked vaguely familiar. And had there been someone else on board with her? Doug could have sworn he's seen a…

 _"Never mind,"_ he tells himself, at last wiping his eyes, _"If there_ **was** _someone with her, he'll be in for shock of his own when Jess and Woolter bring him back."_

It's the sheep's own fault, of course; he should have made sure and disconnected that motor instead of merely _assuming_ it wouldn't work after sitting idle for so long.

Or…maybe he's not _quite_ that much to blame. The only practical way he could have disabled the train-car would have been to pull the plug altogether—and that had never been an option. The process by which he transformed Nighthowler blossoms into Nighthowler serum required a stink-load of electricity. (It was the reason he'd set up his lab down here in the first place.)

Doug's thoughts drift back to that bunny again. Wai-i-i-t a minute, _now_ he remembers where he's seen her before; Judy Hopps, could that have been Judy Hopps? Maybe, but…didn't she quit the ZPD? And how the heck did she find out…?

_"Weaselton!"_

The answer comes to him like flash of lightning—and makes him want to ram his head into somebody's midsection, Yes, of course, the weasel; _that_ was how she'd known where to find his lab, _"Sniveling little two-faced jerk, getting himself busted for trying to_ **steal** _those Nighthowler bulbs, instead of buying them like I said. I should have darted him the minute he hit the streets again."_

That, in fact, was what the rogue-sheep had _wanted_ to do. But Dawn Bellwether had overruled him, saying it would arouse too much suspicion and besides...they might need the little jerk later on.

Bellwether…ohhhh dangit, she wasn't going to _like_ this.

Wincing as if he'd accidentally stuck himself with a cactus needle, Doug pulls out his cell-phone and presses the appropriate speed-dial button. There is no answering burr, only silence; he gives it another second, still nothing.

He looks at his phone, no bars are showing; instead he sees a flashing message, 'No Service'

His brows jump upwards. What the HECK? He's never had that problem down here before. In fact, wasn't Woolter talking to Her Honor only a minute ago? All right, then why…?

He freezes in place. He can't hear or smell anything, but there's someone here with him. Wha…how did he not notice? He reaches instinctively for his trank-dart pistol…then remembers it's still on the train.

A deadpan voice speaks from over his shoulder.

"Don't even think about it, Ramsey."

Doug turns, and sees another pair of sheep. But he doesn't relax; they aren't his guys—or Bellwether's. Technically, they're not even his species. One of them is a bighorn ram and the other is a Marco-Polo sheep; hard, lean, muscular bodies and horns that wrap clear around their heads. They're dressed in what look like, long, black dusters, with tac-vests underneath. Even Jesse and Woolter wouldn't be a match for these two, much less him.

Someone grabs him by the shoulder, spinning him like a turnstile, and he whirls around to face…

"Baa-ahhhhhh!"

His bleat is a mix of horror and terror; he's never met this wolverine, but he's _heard_ about him.

He watches as the other animal raises a finger.

"Very foolish of you, Douglas, getting involved in Dawn Bellwether's little scheme. If only you'd kept a low profile, you might have succeeded in staying off our radar screens. Instead…."

The mini-lecture ends in a head shake that looks almost remorseful.

"Y-You know about that?" Doug asks, his fear giving way to disbelief.

The wolverine's eyebrow pulls upwards.

"Oh really Douglas," he sounds almost disappointed, "We, of all mammals, should recognize the effects of Nighthowler serum when we see it. From there, it was an easy connection to make." His lip curls upwards, showing a fang, "Especially with such resources as we possess." The lip goes up even further and now both fangs are on display. "A florist disappears, and when he's found, he's berserk with Nighhowler poisoning. And when does this happen? Less than a day after _another_ flower shop is robbed of every bulb they have—of guess WHICH plant species? After that it was a simple matter of seeing to it that Duke Weaselton made bail, and putting a trace on him." The brow cocks upwards even further. "And where do you suppose he led us?"

Doug feels his jaw drop open. Disbelief is stepping aside, making way for sheer incredulity

"Y-You knew about the lab! Then why didn't you tell…?"

That's as far as he gets before the wolverine raises a paw with the claws fully extended; a paw covered in dirty-white fur.

Doug cringes as he lowers it again. _"I'll_ ask the questions, if you don't mind." Whitepaugh waits for the sheep's nod and sounds almost genial when he speaks again. "I must say, for someone who was only supposed to provide security, you accumulated quite a fair amount of knowledge during your time in that bootleg pharma-lab."

Was that a question; does it require an answer? Doug can't tell, but he decides not to take any chances.

"Animals kept quitting without notice and whenever they did, I'd get sent in to pinch hit. I hated the heck out of it, but you never said 'no' to _that_ sea-mink. He had me doing everything but clean the toilets."

"Hmmm, yes," Whitepaugh strokes his chin with a thoughtful finger, "I suppose an operation like that _would_ have a high degree of absenteeism, wouldn't it? Does Mayor Bellwether know that you were formerly employed by The Company?"

The rogue sheep shrugs indifferently.

"Don't know; she never asked, and I wasn't about to volunteer." For once, he's able to meet Whitepaugh's gaze. It's a safe enough question.

What follows next is anything but.

"So, was that _your_ lab we saw disappearing around the bend a moment ago?" It sounds innocuous enough, but the look on the wolverine's face is enough to bring tears to Doug's eyes. He knows now...he's not walking out of here alive.

"Y-Yes," he bleats, averting his gaze.

Whitepaugh nods solemnly.

"So…I guess that leaves you as our only source of information."

The terrified ram will never know what prompted his next move. Without warning, without thinking, he launches himself head-first at the wolverine.

It almost works; caught completely by surprise—and caught dead in the center of his chest—Whitepaugh tumbles over backwards.

But then he continues to tumble, pitching heels-over-head, and springing up again on the balls of his feet.

"All right Douglas, _that_ wasn't foolish, it was just plain stupid." Whitepaugh brushes himself off with the back of his paw, looking only a little bit irritated.

And then he nods over the rogue-sheep's shoulder and Doug feels his hooves being swept out from under him. A half-second later, someone grabs his arms and he hears and feels the rasp of zip-ties being cinched around his wrists. A snarling voice growls, "Stand him up," and he finds himself hauled roughly to his feet. At once he begins to squirm and bleat. Now, ALL of the wolverine's teeth are showing.

"I've killed for less than that, Douglas," he informs his captive in a voice that's almost a purr. "Fortunately for you, you're too valuable to lose. In the course of your rather brief career with Ms. Bellwether you appear to have stumbled onto something that might be of extreme value to us." The fangs vanish into a rough smile, "so you won't be dead," and then they come back again, "but you're going to _wish_ you were."

The grip on his arms tightens, and he watches as the wolverine's white-furred paw makes a vicious fast draw into the folds of his coat. Doug tries to struggle when he sees the dart-gun, a real beauty, a top of the line model, much nicer than the one he used to…

Whitepaugh pulls the trigger and shoots him; the pistol chuffs but doesn't buck. Doug feels an impact on collarbone, but there's barely any pain, no worse than an airsoft pellet. He braces himself, waiting for the world to go dark.

But that's not what happens; he remains completely conscious. There's no drowsiness, no dizziness, not even a hint of fatigue.

Instead he feels…he feels…

His mouth is drying up, and his vision seems to be narrowing. His heart is kicking into high gear, and his breath is coming in short gulps. A-And why is it getting so cold in here? He begins to shiver, and not just from the chills; he feels as if he's lost all control, a sensation of completely helplessness—and not just because of the zip-ties binding his wrists. His will has been sapped away, leaving him utterly at the mercy of this wolverine.

Wolverine? Right now his captor seems more like some kind of demonic entity than any living mammal.

Doug collapses to his knees, nearly pitching face-first onto the oil-stained stink of the floor before a harsh grip yanks him upright again. When he glances downward, he sees a splotch of neon-burgundy red on his...

A hard paw slaps his cheek, spinning his head around. When his vision clears, Whitepaugh's face is only inches away from his own. The wolverine's breath is pungent and steamy, emitting a stench like a rotting carcass.

"Only a mild dose, Douglas," he says, "I'd have given you a larger one, but we need you lucid—for now." The last two words come out as both silky and menacing.

Doug blinks—once, twice, then several times. Even through the enveloping veil of fear, it comes to him; a revelation, an epiphany. He KNOWS what he's been given, but...but that's impossible! Swallowing deeply to wet his throat, he tries to speak, but all that comes out is a wordless bleat. He tries again, and succeeds—just barely.

"You...Y-You shot me with...You shot…. Th-That was the Nighthowler antidote; you...you had it all along."

The faintest specter of a smile appears on Seth Whitepaugh's face.

"Yes…but not quite, Douglas. You see," he cocks a finger, "Nighthowler IS the antidote—and that's where you come in."


	2. A Rock and a Hard Place (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to the Shrew's Lair

**Disclaimer:** Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

* * *

**The Fire Triangle**

* * *

**Part Two:**

**Oxidizer**

* * *

** Part II - Main Theme: **

** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5P8jn3rjdw> **

** Chapter 1—A Rock and a Hard Place   
** **(Part 1)**

_"Wha…? No, no, nooo…not NOW; I just got to sleep!"_

Judy knew it wasn't the alarm-clock, not in the middle of the afternoon; the nagging buzz could only be coming from her cell-phone. That was why she almost tried to ignore it, pulling the comforter into an even tighter cocoon around herself. Ahhh, ohhhh, who could it be? Was it her parents, her sister...how about another prankster; "Pred and Prey, Stay AWAY!?" (She hadn't actually been trolled for more than two days now.)

Or…maybe it was Chief Bogo, calling to tell her she was good to come back to work.

_"All right, allll right…you win!"_

She threw off the covers and snatched up her phone from the bedside table.

And then...what the _heck?_

_"Fru-Fru? Why would SHE be calling me…Never mind bunny, pick up quick, before it goes into voice-mail."_

Pressing the red 'connect' button, Judy spoke cautiously into the receiver.

"F-Fru-Fru, what…?"

The response was a skull-piercing, silver-tin squeak that made the doe-bunny yank the phone away from her ear. For a second, she thought she'd been pranked again, but then she realized—that wasn't feedback, it was a sob, a high-pitched rodent-sized sob.

She put the cell-phone back against her cheek and tried again.

"Fru, what's wrong?"

"J-Judy," the little arctic shrew's voice was like a nail gouging aluminum siding, "Judy, please…I don't know where else to go. Please, you're my little Jude's godmother; you've got to help me."

"All right, Fru, calm down." Judy slicked back her ears with her other paw, silently wishing she'd never taken this call. Whatever Fru-Fru wanted, it wouldn't be good. "Tell me what happened."

"It's Daddy!" The little arctic shrew's answer came as another feedback squeal, "I-I've never seen him like this. I'm afraid he's going to do something crazy. Please Judy, you're a cop; maybe he'll listen to you. Come to the house, please!"

The paw which had been stroking the doe- bunny's ears now slapped across her face. Whoa, good thing this wasn't a video call; a mob boss...listening to _her?_ There was about as much chance of _that_ happening as there was of Chief Bogo asking Duke Weaselton for advice. Fru-Fru was obviously so distraught that she wasn't thinking straight. Otherwise, she might have considered things from the other side of the discussion.

Consorting with a known criminal is not exactly the wisest career move for an aspiring police detective. If Judy paid an unauthorized visit to Mr. Big's house and ZPD Internal Affairs got wind of it, she wouldn't _need_ to kiss a fox in order to kiss her badge buh- _bye._

_"NICK! Dumb bunny…don't think about him!"_

"J-Judy?"

"Yeah Fru, I'm still here." Dangit, she needed to stall, to give herself time to think. "What happened? Did…?" A thought struck her. Oh no, not _that!_ "Did another one of your dad's properties get burned down?" She was crossing her fingers so tightly it seemed they might fuse together.

"N-No, that didn't happen, " Fru-Fru sniffled, sounding not at all relieved. "There was a meeting here last night. A bunch of those awful Sahara Square pigs came here to speak to Daddy…and…and…" She began to sob again, forcing the bunny to hold out her cell at arm's length again. "I'll tell you about it when you get here, but please…come talk to him."

Judy's paw found her face a second time.

_"Ohhhh, sweet cheez n' CRACKERS!"_

And then she spoke into the phone again.

"Give me a minute, okay Fru?"

_"Please,_ Ju…"

"A minute, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, Judy pressed the mute button. Putting the phone back where she'd found it, she began to pace back and forth across the floor. Dangit, this would have been a tough enough dilemma if she had a week to make up her mind; instead, she probably had less than a minute. Ohhh, what was she going to DO? If she agreed to see Fru's father, she might be sending her police career swirling down the porcelain. But, if she didn't say yes, she'd be turning her back on a friend, a friend with nowhere else to go. Crikes…Fru-Fru had to be at end of her rope and hanging on by the fingertips if she was willing to go to a _cop_ for help—even if said cop was the godmother to her eldest child.

But then a wry look creased the doe-bunny's face. Maybe so, but wasn't that shrew _still_ her father's daughter? 'I'll tell you when you get here,' she'd said. While that might not have been an intentional ploy, it meant there was only _one_ way Judy was going to find out the reason for her call. And that would be to go in and talk to her dad. Hrmmm. what was it Nick had told her once? 'Friend or no friend, don't ever forget something; in _La Cosa Nostra_ , blood is thicker than everything...' _"I TOLD YOU NOT TO THINK ABOUT THAT FOX!"_

Mostly, inner voices are a pain; your own, fursonal, pestiferous Greek chorus. Sometimes, however—what would you do without them? These were to be Judy Hopps' feelings in the next few seconds, when _her_ conscience decided to cut to the chase.

_"What if you say 'No' and Mr. Big DOES do something crazy? What happens then?"_

"What happens then is a gang-war," the doe bunny muttered under her breath.

And that made up her mind for her. She grabbed her phone and unmuted it.

"All right Fru, I'll come," she said, and then quickly, before the arctic shrew could say anything, she tacked on a qualification, "But I have conditions."

Fru's answer was a high-pitched whistling noise that only a bunny could have detected, the sound of a shrew sniffling.

"Wh-What kind of conditions?"

Judy blinked hard and made a fist with her free paw.

"I'll come see your father, but when I'm done, I'm going straight to Chief Bogo and brief him on everything we talked about."

"Judy, you _can't!"_ Fru's cry came as another shriek of feedback, and the doe-bunny would not have been greatly surprised to hear the stuttering beep of the call being disconnected.

Instead, the line stayed open…and Judy moved quickly into the breach.

"Listen Fru, I'm taking a big enough risk as it is, agreeing to see him without notifying the Department in advance. Heck, I'm taking a risk just accepting this call!" She paused to let her words sink in, and then continued. "I took an oath when I joined the ZPD…an oath that's as important to me as the oath of _Omerta_ is to your father; c'mon, you know that." She had no idea if any of this would have an impact, but when Fru-Fru spoke again her voice was much calmer than a moment ago.

"All right Judy…but when you speak to Daddy, before you say anything else, I want you to tell him what you just told me.

"Fair enough," Judy said. (This was actually what she'd intended from the start. But why prolong the discussion needlessly?) "Okay, how do I get to you?"

"I'm sending Mr. Manchas," the little arctic shrew replied, and there was something in her voice that made the doe-bunny suspect that the black-furred jaguar was already on the road. Had Fru known all along that the answer to her plea would be in the affirmative? Well, as Judy had already noted she WAS the daughter of a mob boss.

_"And yeah, that IS something_ _I'd better not ever forget,"_ the grey-furred bunny reminded herself, a warped smile curling around the edges of her muzzle.

And then another thought struck her.

"Wait, don't send him to my apartment," she said, speaking quickly, "Have him pick me up out front of the Elm Street Metro." She did not explain or elaborate; at this time of the afternoon, there'd be there'd be at least a few other vehicles waiting to pick up passengers outside the station. No one would notice another one, limousine or not. And if Renato Manchas couldn't find _that_ place on his own, he had no business working as Mr. Big's fursonal driver.

"Yeah, good idea," Fru responded, having grasped the doe-bunny's reasoning at once. She was a child of _La Cosa Nostra_ all right. "He'll be there in about thirty minutes."

Judy made a quick calculation, _"Hmmm, so he IS on his way already,"_ and then shrugged and let it go.

"I'll be there too. Bye Fru."

She stowed the phone and went to her closet.

An hour later found her sitting in the back of a limo inside the Creavers Valley Tunnel, midway between Downtown Zootopia and Tundratown.

Moving her paw over the car-seat, Judy noted that the upholstery was newer than the rest of the interior—except for the carpeting, which was also of a more recent vintage. Hmmm, could this be the same limousine in which Emmit Otterton had been darted with Nighthowler; the one where she and Nick had later been jumped by Kevin and Raymond? It was not outside the realm of possibility, although it WAS rather surprising that Renato Manchas would ever be willing to set foot inside of _this_ particular limo—fully refurbished or not.

Manchas…was he looking at her again?

Judy lifted her gaze…just in time to see his eyes dart away from the rear-view mirror.

He'd been doing that ever since picking her up. At first the doe-bunny had found it annoying; now it merely scratched her curiosity. The glances she'd caught had shown nothing in the way of disapproval, much less hostility. No, the big cat had seemed almost…what was the word for it, melancholy…regretful? No, neither one of those quite fit.

She was tempted to ask him about it, and so she might have—except she needed to stay focused on the task ahead.

As the limo came out of the tunnel and into Zootopia's arctic district, she sat up and peered out the window, taking stock of her surroundings. What she saw was both familiar and oddly _un_ familiar. She'd been in this part of Tundratown before, the first time she and Ni...she and her former partner had been brought in to see Mr. Big. That visit, however, had occurred in the dead of night, and she'd been sandwiched in between a pair of _very_ unfriendly polar bears. This time, the sun was up and she had the back of the limousine all to herself.

The season had been different then as well. Back then, all the streets had been carpeted with layers of snow. Now, while there was plenty of white stuff strewn along the roadsides, the pavement itself was bare. (Even Tundratown has to pay homage to summer.) The mountains on her left, normally a uniform white, were splotched here and there with patches of grey and even a hint of green. Behind her, only the upper halves of the skycrapers adjoining Downtown Zootopia remained sheathed in frost, giving them the appearance of ginormous shaved-ice dispensers. Here in the foothills, most of the architecture was alpine; houses and businesses built to resemble either chalets or mountain lodges. If you wanted to find igloos or ice palaces you needed to look further down the valley, towards the flatlands encircling Icy Lake.

Now Manchas turned left and onto a wide boulevard. As he rounded the corner, Judy took note of a polar bear in a tall cap, standing sentry beneath sign reading 'Private Road—No Turnarounds'. At the limo's approach, he stiffened and readied his weapon. (O-M Goodness, was he packing a…?)

But then the bear peered closer, and smiled and waved. Judy saw Mr. Manchas return the gesture and then sat back again, feeling her nose beginning to twitch. Given the current state of affairs in Zootopia's underworld, what she'd just witnessed was hardly surprising—but it was still unsettling. The Tundratown and Sahara Square mobs really _wer_ _e_ on the brink of war…and God help the city if they took it to Defcon One. One thing at least was comforting to the doe-bunny; she'd been absolutely right to agree to Fru-Fru's request. To forestall such a calamity, she'd have gladly put her life on the line…so why not her career?

The houses here were of a much different caliber than the ones she'd seen elsewhere in Tundratown. All were spaced at wide intervals, all of them were gated, and all of them were surrounded by either high walls or towering fences. Through a few of the latter, Judy was able to glimpse the onion-arched facades of what looked like Russian dachas. Clearly Antonino Grandi, aka Mister Big, liked to keep his soldiers close at paw.

Unsurprisingly, the Grandi family compound was situated at the far end of the street. _This_ place Judy remembered; timber, and plaster and tall, gothic windows; a high-peaked roof, more befitting to a cathedral than a private residence. Like every other house on the street, it was surrounded by an industrial strength palisade; in this case a stone wall that could have withstood a direct hit from an artillery shell. What was different here was the absence of any gate. Instead the entrance was secured by a stout chain—a chain watched over by not one but THREE of the Big Shrew's bodyguards, two polar bears and a Siberian tiger, all of them heavily armed.

Though the sun was bright and shining, it seemed to Judy that the entire estate was enveloped in a cloak of dark mist—the fog of war. And what could one little bunny do to burn off such an all-encompassing shroud of acrimony?

She had no idea; she only knew that she had to try.

Entering by way of the estate's front door, Judy found a Greenland wolf waiting for her in the foyer; dark suit and even darker glasses, an animal she didn't recognize. He was standing at parade rest beside a low stool. And as the doe-bunny came closer, she became aware of a stiff tail, a tapping foot, and a hard frown. If Fru-Fru wanted her here, this animal obviously felt otherwise.

"Step up there," he instructed her, in a toneless, Nordic voice, waving towards the stool with a device she recognized as a metal-detector wand. Judy did as she was told and then raised her arms, remaining stock still while he ran the wand over her. Even though she knew he was only doing his job, she decided she didn't like this animal, (and judging by the look on his face, the feeling was more than mutual.)

After giving her a quick twice-over with no response from the detector-wand, the wolf stowed it and motioned for her to step down.

"This way," he growled, striding to the hallway door and all but flinging it open.

The interior of the house was just as Judy remembered; that is, what little of it she was able to remember. The first time she'd been here she'd arrived by another entrance and had practically been frog-marched inside. Since then, she had never been back. Oh, she'd met Fru for lunch on numerous occasions, and the two of them had many times gone shopping together; (the little shrew was a genius at finding bargains.) But until today, she had never returned to the Grandi Estate, and for a very simple reason. This house was the property of Mr. Big, not his daughter. And like any good mob boss, he considered his home his castle.

It was a castle with _La Cosa Nostra_ practically written all over it; dark, heavy timbers, stone and hardwood floors covered in brocade carpets, and walls in washed-out pistachio green, hung here and there with dimly lit paintings. The biggest difference for Judy was that the frost which had seemed to fill every nook and cranny on her previous visit was largely absent this time; hardly an icicle to be seen anywhere.

Summer had definitely arrived.

Passing by a window that fronted on a small courtyard, Judy spotted something peculiar, a domed greenhouse protecting only a single piece of flora, a tree of many small trunks and big, trefoils leaves. Wait, was that a _fig_ tree? Yes, it was and what the heck was _that_ doing here in Tundratown?

The wolf eventually brought her to a heavy chestnut door which he opened without knocking. Stepping aside, he ushered the doe-bunny through and closed it behind her.

On the other side of the doorway, everything was instantly familiar; this was the office where, two years ago, Judy had first encountered the _Padrone_ of the Tundratown mob. Only, where was…?

"Judy, is that you?" A wee, tinny voice queried hopefully. It was coming from the top of Mr. Big's massive slab of a desk.

"I'm here, Fru," the doe-bunny assured her, moving quickly around to the front.

Fru-Fru was parked on the desktop, laying back with an overstuffed belly in an overstuffed lounge-chair. She was wearing a mist-blue maternity dress that would shortly need to make way from the next size up. On her right was a basket of mealworms, and on the left was a bowl of…vanilla cake frosting?

As Judy watched, she took one of the worms, dunked it in the confection and popped it into her mouth, devouring it in two quick bites…and reminding the doe bunny that size and appearances notwithstanding, shrews are one of the world's most rapacious predators.

But...mealworms with _icing?_ Ewww, no wonder that wolf hadn't wanted to wait around.

"What can I say, I get cravings," Fru shrugged, having caught her guest's expression. By way of further explanation she patted her expanding tummy. "Thanks _so_ much for coming, Judy," she said, and then gestured to a spot behind and to the left of the doe bunny. "Please…sit down."

The rattan chair was a bit large for a rabbit, but she managed…and she also noted that it didn't go with the rest of the room décor; Fru must have had it brought in especially for her visit.

That was when Judy noticed; something in this room was conspicuous by its absence.

…Or rather, some _one._

"Wh-Where's your dad?"

Fru-Fru blew a tuft of air from her face and her eyes turned upwards for a second. The look on her face might have been either embarrassment or disappointment; the doe bunny was unable to tell.

"Jude-eeeeee, I couldn't bring you here while he was _home_ ; he'd never have let you in the house." She was a lot calmer than she'd been on the phone…which was more than you could say for her visitor.

_"Oh wonderful,"_ Judy groaned to herself. Great, then what would Mr. Big do when he came home and found her here in his _private office?_ Her next thought was, _"Am I THAT obvious?"_ because Fru was grinning at her…sheepishly, but still a grin.

"Don't worry Judy, he won't… _do_ anything. If that was even possible, I'd never have asked you here." She aimed a finger downward at the floor. "Slide out of that chair for a second and thump your foot, g'head."

Judy eyed the little arctic shrew curiously for a second. Now, THERE was a request she didn't get every day. Just the same, she let herself drop to the floor and drummed her foot against the carpet. Nothing happened and she looked up again with a twitching nose.

"'Kayyy…what?"

Fru-Fru only grinned again, and this time her eyes were twinkling.

"Hey c'mon…you're the cop over here; you figure it out."

Judy felt her ears begin to turn backwards, but then looked down again. Wa-i-i-i-t a minute; she was standing right on top of…

She thumped her foot gain, and again there was nothing—where there should have been a hollow, booming noise.

She looked up again. "The ice pit—it's gone."

Fru patted her belly again. "When Daddy found out I was having a boy, he promised me no one would ever get iced in this house again. And to prove it, he had the hole filled in." The pride in her voice was unmistakable, but then her face turned almost grave. "I'm telling you this, Judy, so you'll understand that what else I got to tell you here is the truth."

That was good for another raised rabbit ear…and an eyebrow to go with it. "Excuse me, what... _else_ you have to say?" She could feel her nose twitching again.

"That's right." Fru-Fru sat up in her chair. "While you were on your way here, I got to thinking about what you said, how you gotta tell the Chief about your talk with my dad, after you leave." She leaned even further forward, whiskers twitching like antennae. "So I got something I want you to tell him from me."

_"Whoa, is this the same shrew that almost got hysterical on the phone with me?"_ Judy wondered in amazement. It reminded her of her earlier call with Erin. And it made her realize something; when it comes to hormonal mood swings, adolescence has nothing on a pregnancy.

Fru, meanwhile, was struggling to get up out of her chair. Judy reached quickly to help her, but the arctic shrew only waved her off.

"I got this, I got this, but can you lift me up over there, Judy?" She was pointing to the mantel over the fireplace.

Judy cocked her eyebrow again; it was yet another odd request but then so had been asking her to thump her foot...and that had made perfect sense in the end.

However, there was another problem.

"Uhmmm, that's a little high for me, Fru…and I don't want to try jumping while holding you; not in your, uh, condition."

"There's a step ladder you can use, over by the fireplace tools," Fru-Fru pointed to the left side of the hearth, nodding for emphasis.

"So it's true," Judy said a moment later, as she cupped the little arctic shrew in her paws, "Your dad really IS getting out of the rackets."

Fru-Fru's brow flattened and so did her mouth. "Where'd you hear _that,_ Judy?"

_"Oops, way to go, DUMB bunny."_ Judy mentally chided herself and then thought fast for a second. "Around the Precinct." she said, shrugging it off, as if it was no big deal. "It's just gossip so far...but it's true?"

"Yeah, it's true," the little arctic shrew sighed, already resigned to the fact that her father's plans were known to the ZPD. She patted her tummy again. "He wants to make sure little Tony never gets into 'that life,'...and so do I." Her face had stiffened with resolve.

THAT was something Judy found easy to believe. Not merely his grandson, but also his namesake; Mr. Big would absolutely not want _this_ boy in the rackets, no way!

With such a delicate load in her paws, ascending the stepladder was a slow process; Judy had to move with the stylized steps of an actor in a Tanbuki play. When she started lifting Fru up towards the mantelpiece, the little shrew shook her head.

"No Judy, not up there; up _there_." She was pointing towards the shelf above the mantel, the one containing a portrait of a wrinkled, old lady-shrew, flanked by a pair of Rosary candles.

"Okay," the doe bunny nodded, beginning to get what Fru was after.

It was a bit of a stretch to reach up that far, but Judy managed it. Taking a step back down the ladder, she watched as Fru-Fru waddled to the center of the picture, placing a paw against the canvas, and another one over her heart. Her voice was as somber as the face of the shrew in the painting.

"Judy, on the memory of my sainted great-grandmother, I swear to you: Daddy had NOTHING to do with burning down that recycling plant and that flower-shop!"

_"So Ni…the fox was right about that too."_ This time the doe bunny wisely kept her thoughts to herself. Unfortunately, there was another, even more awkward response that she couldn't avoid speaking aloud.

"How do you know this Fru?" she asked, immediately bracing herself.

"Because he told me—wait!" She had seen Judy starting to raise a finger. "Wait, I know what that sounds like, but please… hear me out before you say anything, okay?"

"All right," Judy let her arms fall to her sides, watching the little shrew with a curious eye and a twitching nose.

"Okay," Fru-Fru leaned back against the canvas and slid downwards, using the frame as a makeshift seat; one of the advantages of being so small. Then she said, "I know my father Judy. If he'd had anything to do with either of those fires he would have said something to me like, "'Baby, you know you're not supposed to ask Daddy about his business.'" Her muzzle shot suddenly upwards, as if in defiance. "But that's NOT what he said...and I didn't have to ask him; _he_ came to _me._ I had just finished putting little Judy to bed when Raymond walked in and said my father wanted to see me in his study. When I got here, Daddy was sitting on the desktop and as soon as Ray set me down, he got up and took me by the paws." She took a deep breath and when she spoke again her voice had become a fair approximation of Mr. Big's wheezy rasp.

"My child, you're going to be hearing some bad things about your father very shortly; that I gave the order to have two of the Red Pig's businesses torched. I swear to you daughter; on my dear, departed Grandmamma's grave, I did NOT do these things."

She stopped abruptly, and Judy realized she was being scrutinized for her reaction. Dangit, what was she supposed to say? _She_ believed what Fru had just told her, but it wouldn't last three seconds in a court of law…or with Chief Bogo.

But then the arctic shrew spoke again.

"It's the same thing Daddy said to Joey the Shadow when he came here for the sit-down last night—almost word for…"

"Wait, _WHAT?"_ Judy's ears felt as if they were going to shoot straight through the ceiling.

"Joey Porcini," Fru amended quickly, "He's the Red Pig's _Consigliere_ …"

"No, that's not what I mean," Judy had to steady herself on the ladder to keep her balance, "Your father let you attend the meeting; you were THERE?" She couldn't believe that even Mr. Big would be that indulgent…and even if he was, his 'guests' sure as heck wouldn't have stood for it.

Fru-Fru's eyes turned momentarily upwards, and she began to scan the air around her, as if searching for an intruding mosquito.

"Ummm, noooo…but…you see this fireplace here?" She was aiming her finger downwards, "Wellll, the chimney goes right past the TV room upstairs and umm…well, if you stand at a certain spot, ummm… right next to that part of the wall…"

"Okay Fru, I get it." Judy spoke quickly wanting to spare her friend the embarrassment of having to admit that she'd been eavesdropping. "And everything you just told me never leaves this room."

"Thanks Judy," the arctic shrew responded, letting out a breath of heartfelt relief.

"No problem," the doe-bunny smiled and then quickly grew serious, "Maybe you better tell me about that meeting from the beginning. I promise not to repeat anything you say, but if I'm going to be able to help you, I need to know what happened here last night."

"Yeah, right," Fru-Fru puffed out her cheeks. "Can you put me back down on the desk first?"

When 'The Shadow' Porcini had arrived at the Grandi family compound, he'd had a troop of bodyguards with him. Except for Vinnie 'the Painter' Truffalini, Fru hadn't recognized any of them. "But I know a stinkin' _Razorback_ when I see one," she spat out the word like lye.

"And the Red Pig didn't come himself?" Judy asked. She wasn't surprised, only curious.

"No, and it's a good thing, too." Fru-Fru's cheeks were puffing out again. "That javelina's a total, stinkin' psycho."

Peccari's absence from the meeting had given Fru a little hope that maybe her father and the Sahara Square mob would be able to hammer out a peaceful settlement to their differences. But no sooner had Koslov shut the front door, than Mr. Big had sent her upstairs, offering her only the timeworn mob mantra as an explanation, 'Business is business.'

Fru-Fru had taken her place next to the chimney just in time to hear her father swearing once again that the arson attacks on the Red-Pig's property had in no way been carried out at his behest. After that, she hadn't been able to hear much of anything; the animals downstairs had all been speaking in hushed tones.

"But then just like that, they all started yelling at each other. I couldn't make out most of it, but it was like a horror movie down there; y'know, when the monster comes in and everybody starts screaming at once?" She hugged herself and shuddered. "Except this was all angry, not scared…and what I DID hear… When Truffalini called Koslov a 'Goombear' I thought for sure that the next thing I was gonna hear was gunshots. And _then_ I heard Vinnie 'The Shadow' screaming 'Snitch' at my father."

At this Judy gasped and felt her paws fly up to her face. Even she knew that in _La Cosa Nostra,_ there's no greater insult than to accuse a fellow mobster of violating the code of _Omerta._

Whoa, good thing Mr. Big had gotten that ice-pit filled in. Otherwise at least one of his 'guests' would have left the room that way—but not without taking one or two of the Big Shrew's soldiers with him; the Razorbacks were nobody's helpless little pigs, and by the sound of things, there'd been way more than three of them in here.

And even worse had been yet to come for Fru-Fru; after several more minutes of verbal chaos, her father's voice had pierced through the din like a red-hot needle.

"You stay away from my daughter, you hear me, Shadow? OR I'LL STUFF YOUR NOSE DOWN YOUR T'ROAT!"

_"Oh my God,"_ Judy felt like hugging herself too. No wonder Fru was so desperate.

"I never in my life heard Daddy scream like that," the little shrew was almost in tears again. "I swear, I didn't know his voice could GET that loud."

Mr. Big's angry fusillade had been the straw that broke up the meeting. Porcini and the Razorbacks had stormed out through the front door and gone screeching out of the driveway with their tires throwing up rooster-tails of snow. As soon as they were gone, Fru had summoned Kevin and told him to bring her back downstairs. At first, the polar bear had tried to demure. "You should wait little bit, _babuschka_...till Big Shrew feels better, da?" It was no use; Fru-Fru was The Boss's daughter, and she wanted to see him right _now._ Eventually, reluctantly, the polar bear had complied with the order.

"I should have listened to him when I had the chance, Judy." the little arctic shrew sniffled, wiping at an eye with her finger, "When Kevin brought me downstairs again, as soon as we hit the ground floor, I could hear Daddy ranting...l-like a crazy animal, all the way down the hall. 'That jerk, that punk, that _pezzi di sporcizia_ …how dare he talk that way to me? ME! _Maiale bugiardo,_ I'll make him eat his words with battery acid!'" She sniffled again, "If I hadn't been there myself I never would of believed it...that my father could lose it like that."

But even then, Fru-Fru couldn't have imagined how angry he _really_ was.

"When I saw Daddy after Kevin opened the door...oh my God, Judy! I thought for a second one of those pigs must have slipped him a Nighthowler. He had his jacket open, his shirt collar was all undone, and his fur was all sticking out every which way, like a punk rocker or something. All his teeth were showing too. And his EYES; sweet mother of mercy, it was like someone had stuck a coupla deviled sparrow-eggs in his eye-sockets. At first, he didn't even seem to know I was there…stomping back and forth, all over the desktop, waving his paw in the air. And then…and then, wh-when he finally noticed me…"

Her words ended in a choking sob, and it was nearly a minute before she was able to continue.

When Mr. Big had turned and seen her...

"He… _screamed_ at me Judy, for the first time ever, 'YOU! YOU GET OUTTA HERE!'…a-and not in those words; he used language even _Kevin_ hadn't heard him use before."

She began to cry again, and Judy looked fervidly around the office. Dangit wasn't there _anything_ in here she could use as a tissue?

"He…apologized to me over breakfast this morning," Fru sniffled, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. "But he's still almost crazy-mad about last night." She lifted a pair of fingers and crossed herself. "I just hope it's not too late already. When Daddy left the house earlier, he didn't tell me _where_ he was going."

That was something he probably never did anyway, Judy mused to herself. But never mind; what the heck had happened here to set the Big Shrew off like that? And not just him; from the way things sounded, the Red Pig's envoys hadn't left in a particularly jolly mood either. What could have started it? WHO could have started it?

To find out, Judy knew she would have to choose her next words very carefully…and even then, it would be a roll of the dice. However she presented the suggestion, Fru-Fru wasn't going to like it. In a worst-case scenario, she might even order the doe-bunny to leave the house and declare that they were no longer friends.

It was a risk, but the only thing that might shed some light on what had touched off that powderkeg last night.

"Fru," she said, speaking very slowly, "whoever burned down the Red Pig's properties, I'm getting a…a very strong vibe that he and your dad were already feuding—even before the Tux-On fire. I-Is that right?"

Okay, there it was; Judy crossed her fingers, waiting for the answer.

"Uh-huh," Fru's expression had shifted from distress to disgust—but not directed at _her,_ the doe-bunny was relieved to note. "Yeah that's about it; they've been sniping at each other since back when summer started."

Judy let out a breath but not _all_ of her breath; that was only the first hurdle.

"Oh-kayyy," she said, mentally crossing her fingers. While Fru-Fru wouldn't be offended by her next question, she most likely wouldn't know the answer either. "Do you have any idea what started it?"

To her considerable surprise, the little arctic shrew's response was as bitter as a straight shot of _Amaro._ Her eyes narrowed into fire-grate slits and the corners her mouth arced downwards almost to her shoulders. In the meanwhile, her paws had tightened up on her the arms of her chair, as if preparing to rip them from their mountings.

And when she spoke, her voice was as screechy as finger-claws on a blackboard.

"Oh yeah, I got an idea how it started. It was all because a' that STUPID ring!"

"R-Ring?" Judy felt her nose twitching…and not out of mere curiosity; disquiet was in the mix too. The word shouldn't have raised even a single red flag with her and yet a whole covey of them seemed to be taking flight. "Wh-What ring?"

"My _engagement_ ring," Fru looked as if she wanted to bite somebody's face off.

Judy started to lean closer and then stopped herself. Given the little shrew's mood right now, it might not be the best course of action to get within range of those chompers.

Fru, however, had seen her reaction, and moved quickly to calm herself.

"Sorry, sorry…it just makes me so mad when I think about it." She turned sideways and for a second, Judy thought she was going to spit. But then she held out her left paw in the doe bunny's direction, while she fumbled in a pocket with the other. "But I didn't mean _this_ engagement ring, I meant the other one, the FIRST one. Now where the heck…? Dang, I haddit here a second ago."

Judy stared completely puzzled; just when she'd thought that things couldn't get any more confusing. A…NEW engagement ring; who the heck buys a new engagement ring...unless they've lost the old one? (And that obviously wasn't the case here.)

After another minute of rummaging, Fru's face lit up, "Success!" Extracting a tiny object from her pocket, she held it out in Judy's direction. It was perhaps the size of a gumdrop, but the doe-bunny recognized it immediately—a ring-box.

"G'head, take a look ," the little shrew prompted, but it was easier said than done. Too small for Judy to get a decent grip on it, the box at first denied all attempts to get it to open. Finally, on the third or fourth try, she managed to hook a thumb-claw under the lid and peel it backwards.

Inside was a ring of a deep-yellow gold set with a lustrous diamond. A gorgeous piece of work, but there was nothing special about it, at least not that she could see. Of course, it was a shrew-sized ring, and so she couldn't get a decent look at it anyway, and yet…

And yet...why was her nose twitching nervously again?

She looked up at Fru and saw the arctic shrew pointing to her left.

"There's a magnifying glass on the desk right there."

Yes there was; a fine-looking piece...etched in brass, with an art-nouveau handle. That was the good news; the bad news was that it was of a size intended for a larger mammal...of say, polar bear proportions. In Judy's paws it was as big as a tennis-racket and as unwieldy as an industrial sledgehammer. After three unsuccessful attempts to lift it up over the ring, she decided to compromise. Propping the glass up on its edge, she slid it sideways along the rim of the desktop until the ring-box was centered in the lens.

Yep, there we go…except the image was still a little blurry. Judy tilted the lens back a little and the view quickly crystallized.

At once, she let out a yelp of surprise, and lost her grip on the magnifying glass. It fell onto the desk with a flat, wooden slap as her paws shot up to her cheeks again.

_"Sweet Cheez' n'…oh my God!"_

What Judy had seen beneath the magnifying lens was putting everything else in a clear view as well; at last it was all beginning to make sense…including why Fru-Fru had chosen to reach out to _her._

She looked up again at the arctic shrew—and saw her sitting rigidly, with folded arms and an expression of grim contempt.

"I know, right? A _lavender_ diamond!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fru's reveal at the end goes back to the opening chapters of Part 1, Fuel


	3. A Rock and a Hard Place (Cont'd...Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shrew comes home to roost.

**Disclaimer:** Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

* * *

**The Fire Triangle**

* * *

**Part Two:**

**Oxidizer**

* * *

** Chapter 1—A Rock and a Hard Place  
** **(Continued…Part 2)**

If Fru-Fru's revelations so far had been only surprising, the one she had waiting around the corner was a nuclear bombshell…but Judy wouldn't find that out for another minute or two. Leaning forward in her chair, she peered at the little arctic shrew as though she might—or might not—have actually been there.

"Hang on; you got your engagement ring at _Rafaj Brothers Jewelers?"_

Fru's snout turned upwards like a miniature elephant's trunk, a sign of irritation in a shrew.

"Not ME...Tad bought it." Tad was Tad Dennison, her husband. But forget about that; now it was Judy's turn to be annoyed.

"Oh get off it, Fru. You know that's not what I mean; why on earth would anyone even _close_ to your family go shopping for a diamond in Sahara Square?"

What she meant was this: Fru's fiancé had taken an incredible risk, showing his face in the Red Pig's territory. Had he been a made member of the Tundratown syndicate, he'd have been safe enough; the rules of _La Cosa Nostra_ strictly forbade the kidnapping of 'a friend of ours'. And that also applied to a made member's immediate family—including relatives by marriage. Tad, however, had been neither of those things, at least not then. A water-shrew, originally from the Canal District, he worked as a design engineer for Lukkrasiv Aviation, an aircraft company based in Savanna Central. He was 'strictly legit' as they say in the mob.

That, in fact, had been the one condition Mr. Big had placed on his daughter's choice of husband. "You may marry whoever you wish, dearest one," He had said to her, "as long as they're not in 'the life.' That's the one thing I will not allow."

"As IF I'd marry a wiseguy," Fru-Fru had laughed, after repeating the story to Judy over coffee and _sfogliatelle._ In the end, it had become a moot point anyway; she had ended up falling for a shrew who wasn't even a mob associate, much less a made mammal. All well and good…except when it came to going shopping for an engagement-ring in Sahara Square. Because Tad _was_ a civilian—and not yet engaged to Mr. Big's daughter—the minute he'd set foot in Zootopia's desert enclave, he'd been fair game for a ransom-grab. _That_ had been the reason for the doe-bunny's question—but Fru apparently thought she'd meant something else.

"Hey, he didn't know the Red Pig owned a piece of that place." She was folding her arms defensively.

Judy felt _her_ arms gripping the side of her chair—as if it were an ejection seat about to catapult her straight through the ceiling. Wait…WHAT? _Rocco Peccari_ had been a partner in that jewelry store? Sweet cheez' n crackers, no wonder those jackals had been so reluctant to cooperate… _"Heyyy, hang on a second. If_ that's _true, then….?"_

Before she could ask the question, Fru had already beaten her to the draw.

"Hold it, Judy. I know what you're thinking… but no, the Rafaj brothers were running those blood-diamonds behind the Red Pig's back. He had no _idea_ , the big jamook. " A brief smirk flashed across her muzzle and then hardened into a sneer. "But you better believe he knows NOW; when those two jackals hit the street again, I wouldn't wanna be in _their_ fur."

 _"Neither would I,"_ Judy silently agreed, sitting back in her chair and trying to process what she'd just heard. What the _heck?_ Did those brothers have a death wish or something? Well, one thing was for certain. Whatever lingering doubts she'd had about coming here, they had just gone straight out the window. This…was HUGE. When Chief Bogo heard about it, it was going to blow him straight through the back wall of his office. Fru-Fru had just let slip an incredibly vital piece of information.

Only…had she really done it by mistake? Passing information to the cops, 'accidentally-on-purpose,' was another cherished mob tradition. And if the Red Pig really hadn't known that the Rafaj brothers were dealing in conflict diamonds, it wasn't snitching anyway, at least not technically.

Judy folded her paws and leaned forward in her chair.

"Fru, I think you know this only brings up more questions."

"Yeah, I know." the little arctic shrew sighed, sagging in her seat like a defeated candidate, "I can't promise to answer all of 'em, but I'll tell you what I can."

"Fair enough," the doe-bunny nodded her understanding and then decided that what had worked before might be worth a repeat. "Maybe the best thing would be for you to just fill me in on what happened from the beginning."

"Yeah," Fru-Fru sighed again and then pursed her lips into a look of disgust, beating a tattoo on her knee with a paw. The next words she spoke came straight out of left field. "Ahhhh, I just HADDA go and look at that news story."

"Huh?"

Fru and her fiancé had been browsing the web, looking for a place to take their honeymoon. (Tad had not yet proposed, but both of them knew it was coming.) While checking out Spain as a possible destination, something else had caught the little arctic shrew's eye, a news item with the headline, **"French, Spanish police bust thieves of rare 'purple' diamond."**

Curious, Fru-Fru had clicked on the article…and there, before her eyes had been the most exquisite gemstone she'd ever seen.

"That thing was such a deep purple...if I hadn't known better, I would have swore it was an amethyst; except there was never no amethyst that beautiful. I saw it and I said to Tad, y'know, just off the top of my head, 'Whoa, I wish I could have a wedding diamond like that.'" Repeating the words for Judy, she now seemed to wish that she'd bitten off her tongue instead.

A week later, when Tad had finally popped the question…

"I couldn't find a purple diamond, sweetheart…but I think I got the next best thing."

When he'd opened the box and shown her the ring, Fru had squealed with joy and thrown her arms around him, smothering him with kisses.

"So, uh…I guess that means you like it?" Tad had asked her.

And Fru had said, "Shaddup and kiss me back, already."

He had wisely complied with the order.

"That was that happiest day of my life up until then," Fru-Fru sniffed, beginning to get teary-eyed again, "but little could I have known…."

When she'd gotten pregnant the first time, she'd had it relatively easy, only a very brief bout of morning sickness and minimal moodiness. Not so the second time around; even before the test confirmed she was expecting, Fru's emotions had jumped on a runaway see-saw and her ankles had ballooned up to twice their normal girth.

So had her fingers…

"My engagement ring started to hurt so bad, I couldn't get to sleep at night...and then I couldn't get the darn thing to come off. When my finger started to go numb, I told Tad he'd have to take me back to the shop where he got it and get them to take it off and fix it."

"Not the ER?" Judy was lifting an ear and an eyebrow.

Fru 's brow went up even higher than hers. "Are you kiddin'? Those ER docs are butchers when it comes to gettin' rings offa fingers; they'd of wrecked it, and no thanks, Ralph!" She glared defiantly for half a second, before her expression dissolved into embarrassment. "That's what I thought at the time," she whimpered, shaking her head remorsefully. "But if I'd known then, what I know now…"

The first piece of unpleasant news had come when Tad had revealed exactly where he'd purchased her engagement ring. When Fru had heard, she'd practically had a conniption. "You bought it in SAHARA SQUARE! You stupid _mortadella_ , you're lucky you didn't get snatched; you know who _controls_ that district? I'll chop my stinkin' ring-finger OFF before I'll let you take me to that place!" She'd held up her paw, waving it in his snout. "You listen to me Tad Dennison; you're gonna find somewhere else to get this taken care of and you're gonna find it right _now!"_

And to prove that she meant business, she had kicked him out of their bedroom until he did. Two days later, he'd come almost crawling back to her with the news; there was a jeweler in Little Rodentia that could do the job.

Ever the attentive husband, Tad had insisted upon accompanying her to the shop; a seedy little place in the district's low-rent neighborhood, with a name that could hardly have been less appropriate, Upscale's Fine Rodent Jewelry.

"I swear Judy, _that's_ the joint I would of thought was selling blood diamonds." Fru-Fru sniffed. "What a hole…and I mean literally, the place was nothing but some hollowed out bricks stuck together."

Sleazy outfit or not, it had taken the Upscale hamsters all of two minutes to get Fru's ring off—and less than fifteen minutes more to get it resized to a perfect fit. All the while, they'd been gushing over the exquisite work and asking her where she'd gotten it.

"Of course, I didn't tell 'em." Fru said, raising her chin defiantly, and showing her _Cosa Nostra_ roots once more. But then her gaze dropped down to the desktop again, and her voice faded to a near mumble. "But maybe I shoulda…"

When she'd left the jewelry shop with her husband, Fru-Fru had thought her engagement-ring issues were over. In fact, they were just beginning. A week later, she and Tad had met for an _al fresco_ lunch at their favorite downtown spot, Café Voré. They had just finished eating when a shadow fell over their table. Looking up, they'd seen a Sun Bear in a dark suit holding a badge above their heads. Judy recognized the description almost at once; Detective Lieutenant Charles Saw, Deputy Chief of the ZPD Organized Crime unit. With him had been a trio of uniformed officers, all of them larger species, standing in a rough circle around the arctic shrews' table.

"Tad Dennison, Fru-Fru Grandi Dennison," the bear had intoned solemnly, "You're under arrest. Get up from the table please, and keep your paws where we can see them."

Pushing his chair back and standing up as instructed, Tad had stared up incredulously at the detective. Fru however, had found it somewhat more difficult to comply.

"My pregnancy was starting to hit me hard by then, Judy. I was getting morning sickness at like all hours of the day, and with zero warning. So when I got up outta my chair, my lunch came up with me—all over the stinkin' table."

Seeing his wife in distress, Tad had attempted to go to her…only to find his path blocked by the sun bear's paw. "Stay where you are, please."

That had been enough to get Fru-Fru's blood up. "Lissen Cole Slaw," she'd said, addressing the Lieutenant by his derisive underworld nickname, "you know who my father is?"

"Yes, I know who he is," the bear had responded tonelessly before flashing a quick, toothy smirk. "Now ask me if I _care."_

"Mind telling us at least what we're being arrested for?" Tad had demanded, also beginning to lose his patience.

"For illegal possession of a blood diamond," Saw had informed him curtly. He had then motioned to one of the uniforms who had stepped forward, placing a rodent cage on the ground. "All right, inside," he'd growled, motioning with a paw.

"I was playing the tough girl, Judy," Fru grabbed for another mealworm, dunked it fast and swallowed it whole, "A real gangster's moll. You know; 'We didn't do nothin','we'll be out before dinner,' 'Vern Rodenberg's gonna clip your claws for this, pal.' Tad kept telling me to please be quiet, but I was too mad to listen—coz I knew something. If I hadn't been Big Shrew's daughter, the ZPD would _never_ of rousted me over something that petty …much less sent Cole Slaw to do the job. Stinkin' coppers; _possono andare tutti a Napole!"_

"Uhhhh, Fru…" Judy grimaced and looked sideways for a second.

So did her host—who had managed to get herself so worked up, she'd forgotten she was talking to a police officer.

"Ooooo, sor-reeee," the words came out as a squeaky groan, delivered through clenched teeth.

"It's okay, Fru," the doe bunny assured her—although she was anything but certain that it WAS okay. Like it or not, the little arctic shrew had just opened a breach between them; a narrow gap, but a gap nonetheless. Judy was a cop and the animal sitting opposite her was the daughter of a crime boss… and there was no getting around that fact—or that someday, it might drive them apart for good.

For a long, heavy moment, an awkward silence filled the room, finally broken when Fru cleared her throat.

 _"G'humm_ ….l-like I said Judy, I was playing the stand-up shrew; but the truth is, I was scared, really scared. That was the first time in my life I'd ever taken a pinch. I had no idea what was happening; and what about Tad? Sweet Mother of Mercy, I'd DIE if he ever became a Guest of the State!"

"Fru," Judy reached up to pat the desktop, and this time the assurance in her voice wasn't forced. "You and Tad weren't going to jail; that case was weak to begin with." She felt no guilt in saying this. By now, Fru-Fru almost certainly knew it for herself.

Yep.

"Actually, they had practically NO case, Judy. Back when Tad bought me that ring, it wasn't illegal to _own_ a lavender diamond, only to sell them. The law saying you couldn't have one at all didn't pass until less than a year ago; I found that out when Mr. Rodenberg came to see me. Anyway, finally they let us go, no charges filed." She pointed to the box on the desktop again, "They even had to give me back my ring." Her mouth bowed into a deep frown and she waved a paw like a grandee dismissing a peasant. "'Course, I refused to wear it after that and Tad hadda get me a new one."

Then why did she still even have it? Judy had to wonder, but kept the question to herself; there were more important matters afoot. 'No charges filed' should have been the end of the engagement ring saga—but she already knew that wasn't the case.

Meanwhile Fru-Fru was still talking.

"But before then Judy, I was so scared. No offense, but like I said before. I knew the cops had only busted me to get to my father…and that they'd do _anything_ to nail him—like when they tried to get Nick to flip on him."

Okay, _that_ made Judy's ears lay back. Friend or no friend, this time Fru had gone too far.

"That was the DA Office's idea, not the ZPD." she said, straightening up and folding her arms indignantly, "and that agency doesn't even _exist_ anymore; it's been replaced by the Attorney General's Office."

Fru-Fru cocked her head in surprise.

"Whoa, you _know_ about that?"

 _"D'ohhhhh, DUMB bunny!"_ Judy could have kicked herself right out the window. If _Fru_ was able to play her so easily, what was going to happen when her FATHER got here?

She leaned forward in her chair, clutching the arms for emphasis. "Yes, and I don't want to talk about it—or him—all right?"

"Sorry, sorry," Fru had thrown up her paws in surrender. "Sorry, that was the hormones talking…just like they did back when I got pinched; even now I still get the shivers when I think of it."

"Okay," Judy nodded, quietly deciding to let it slide. "So, what happened next?"

Fru-Fru gave her a tilted look.

"YOU happened, Judy."

The doe-bunny's ears jumped straight to attention. "What... _me?"_

"That's right," Fru was regarding her intently. Had she been a large predator, Judy might even have feared for her safety. "When you and Nick ran that diamond sting on the jackals, remember?"

"Oh, right," Judy answered uneasily, wanting to kick herself again. Dangit, how could she have forgotten about that? Whoa, wasn't she just hitting 'em out of the park—hey, wait just a carrot-pickin' minute! "Hold it, hold it; help me out here, Fru." She had raised her paws as if on traffic duty. "How is that related to anything else you told me?"

"Oh, it's related, Judy, it's related," Fru's anger was rising again. "It's been 'related' ever since the Red Pig accused Tad of being a snitch; saying MY husband gave up the jackals to the cops!"

"He…did…WHAT?" Just when Judy thought it couldn't get any crazier, "but that's nuts, Fru. Even if Tad _was_ our informant…"

"He wasn't!" the arctic shrew snapped showing her teeth again.

Judy stopped, inhaled slowly through her nostrils and tried again.

"Okay, yes…but correct me if I'm wrong. Even assuming Tad did make the call on the Rafaj brothers, he's still just a regular guy; the law of _Omerta_ doesn't apply to him. Am I right?"

"Yeah, exactly," Fru answered with a tight-lipped nod

"That's what I thought," the doe-bunny nodded back. "And, in any case, he had no idea that the Rafaj brothers were in bed with the Red Pig. Even I know it's not breaking the Rule of Silence to inform on an _independent_ operator."

Fru-Fru spread her paws in exasperation. "I know right? Tell the Red Pig, not me!"

Judy strongly suspected the Sahara Square mob boss had already been told just that—and probably several times. She leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples with her fingers. "Okay, give me a second; I need to think about this."

"Yeah, sure," Fru answered, and the room fell into silence once again as Judy closed her eyes and mulled the little arctic shrew's revelations.

In _La Cosa Nostra,_ the worst offense a wiseguy can commit is to become a snitch; the second worst is to falsely accuse _another_ wiseguy of being a snitch. Knowing this, Judy could easily understand why the Tundratown and Sahara Square mobs were gearing up for war.

Except, as the doe-bunny had just pointed out, Fru's husband _wasn't_ a 'friend of ours'—so why on earth would the Red Pig have made such an accusation? Well-l-l-l, Rocco Peccari WAS noted for honoring mob protocol mostly in the breach; it stood to reason that an animal like him would be just as capable of twisting it to his own ends. Yes, maybe...but to WHAT ends? Think, Judy, _think_ …try to think like HE would.

She opened her eyes and looked at Fru again.

"Okay, do you have any idea why the Red Pig _really_ accused Tad of being an informer? I just can't see him saying a thing like that unless there was something in it for him."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," the arctic shrew nodded, "But I got no clue as to what it could be. Maybe Daddy will be able to tell you when he gets here." Without warning, her gaze once more intensified. "But there's one thing I've gotta know …and please tell me the truth. Do you have any idea on who actually dropped the dime on those jackals?"

"No," Judy met the shrew's gaze with a firm voice and an unwavering eye, "No, I don't, Fru-Fru. The ZPD only gives out that kind of information on a need-to-know basis…and I _didn't_ need to know that. As a matter of fact it was better that way. If you don't know who your informer is, you can't accidentally give him away to your suspect. Believe me, that's the _last_ thing you want when you're running an undercover sting."

"Yeah, yeah…I didn't think you knew, but I had to ask, okay?" Fru had raised her paws again. "For Tad," she added, as if that made everything alright.

It didn't; for the first time since they'd met, Judy had gotten the impression that the little arctic shrew was trying to lean on her. What would Fru-Fru have said to her if she _had_ known who the informer was—and refused talk about it? Would she then have…brought up Duke Weaselton? Fru was well aware of that incident; she had been right there in the room when her father had 'persuaded' the Dukester to talk…at the behest of one Judy Hopps and her partner. Would her friend really have threatened to…?

Someone rapped on the door and Raymond ducked his way through without waiting.

"Your father has returned home," he said, speaking to Fru-Fru and ignoring Judy as if she wasn't there, "He will see you shortly and wants you to wait for him."

"I-I'll be here," the little shrew answered, looking ready to skitter into the nearest hiding place.

"Da, good," the bear nodded, and started to turn away.

"Hang on, wait a second." Judy was standing up in her chair and raising a paw, "Can you tell him I'm here, too. I don't want him to walk in and be surprised."

Raymond glanced over a shoulder with a cold eye. "He already knows this," and exited the room without another word.

And once again Mr. Big's private sanctum fell silent as the bunny and shrew settled in to wait for her father.

Judy expected a long delay; making visitors feel small by keeping them in limbo was another time-honored mob tradition—especially if that visitor was someone you didn't particularly WANT to see.

Not this time; less than half minute after Raymond's departure, she heard the thump of heavy footsteps in the hallway outside, followed by a sense of the floor vibrating. That could only mean one thing; Koslov was approaching…and _that_ could only mean Mr. Big would be here in short order.

When the door opened, the first animals to enter the office were Raymond and the Siberian tiger Judy had seen minding the gate, followed by the wolf who had greeted her at the front door. It was only after they had formed a protective cordon around Mr. Big's desk that the bulky form of his chief bodyguard came squeezing in through the doorway, so massive that he appeared to be exiting from a clown-car. Stumping over to his usual place behind the desk, he laid his paws on the desktop and opened them, revealing a tiny swivel chair with the back turned towards his guest.

That was something he always did, and Judy had only recently learned the reason why; the back of Mr. Big's chair was bullet-proof—and a reminder to the doe-bunny that the life of a mob-boss is one of constant peril, even without the hovering threat of a gang-war.

When Koslov turned the chair around, Judy found herself facing a much differently dressed shrew than the one she'd first encountered in this office more than two years previously. This time Mr. Big looked like a charter member of the country-club set; a coffee-brown suit-jacket, with tan-slacks and a matching kerchief; his throat encircled by a silk cravat. His head-fur, which he normally wore plumped into a pyramid had been slicked back into a facsimile of 1950's ducktail. The only thing missing was a fancy crest, stitched beneath his coat's left-side breast pocket.

The expression on his face however, was exactly as Judy remembered from their initial meeting, a curious blend of sorrow and contempt. And as before, he spoke his first words as if she wasn't even in the room.

"My child, how can you have done this?" He said, turning his chair in Fru-Fru's direction, "Bringing the cops into my home at such a time?" He spread his paws like a saint about to be martyred, rolling his eyes upwards at the ceiling. (So did Koslov, Judy noted.) "That a shrew should live to suffer such disrespect from his own daughter."

It was enough to make Judy Hopps want to roll _her_ eyes. Holy carrot-sticks! THAT was a performance worthy of a high-school drama queen. Except Mr. Big had been entirely serious and if she knew what was good for her, she had better take it as such. In other words, shut up and let Fru answer him.

"Daddy, please!" the little shrew pleaded, cracking voice and clasped paws, "I'm sorry, but I _had_ to do it. You CAN'T go to war with the Red Pig right now. Please, papa…think of little Judy, think of little Tony." She was clutching her belly and starting to cry again, "Don't…do…this—please."

Mr. Big's response to this was something Judy had never seen before and never would have expected to see. His eyes slammed shut and he swiftly doubled over, as if he'd taken a sucker-punch to the gut. When he raised his face again, his cheeks were streaked with tears. Pulling out a kerchief, he wiped his muzzle with one paw while motioning to Koslov with the other. At once the hulking polar bear slid him closer to his daughter.

"Dearest child, Daddy has no choice." He sniffled, taking her paws and squeezing them. "Last night, in this very room, the Red Pig's _Consigliere_ insulted me beyond the limits of what any Mammal of Honor can be expected to endure." Fru-Fru tried to answer this, but he had already placed a finger against her snout. "And even if he hadn't, the decision no longer rests with me. The next move is Peccari's; the last business to burn was one of his, not one of mine."

There…there it was; Judy saw her opening and she went for it.

"Except YOU didn't do it, Mr…I mean Don Grandi."

At once, every face in the room turned in her direction…but none, thank goodness, wearing hostile expressions; only looks of pure astonishment.

She hurriedly went on. "Fru-Fru already told me you didn't order that fire...OR the one at IRS Recycling—and I believe her."

Mr. Big spent the next couple of seconds studying his guest, before his mouth and his eyebrows turned bitterly downwards.

"I'm glad _you_ believe it," he hissed, waving angrily at nothing, "because the Red Pig absolutely refuses to accept my word of innocence." He pointed at the bear on Judy's left. "Last night, his enforcer, The Painter, swore to me that Raymond there was one of the bears that put the torch to his brother-in-law's flower shop." At this, the polar bear began to tug unhappily at his collar. Seeing him, the Big Shrew flapped a paw in his direction. "Relax _paisan_ , I know you it wasn't you." And to Judy and Fru he said, "That's where I was just now, checking his alibi. I think you can guess what I found."

Judy started to lean forward, but stopped herself, sensing he wasn't finished.

"For all the good it will do me!" he squeaked, thumping his fists on the arms of his chair. "Peccari is absolutely convinced that I gave the order to burn down that flower shop. Even his _Consiglier,_ Joe 'The Shadow' refuses to believe I didn't do it…and he's supposed to be the _sensible_ one in that family!"

He stopped and Judy realized that she was once more under the microscope. But that was okay; this time she was ready. (She'd been ready ever since exiting the limousine.) Still, she'd have to watch her presentation.

"Don Grandi, I would never want to insult your intelligence, but I have to point out something. If you didn't burn down either one of the Red Pig's properties, then maybe he didn't burn _yours_ down either."

To her considerable surprise, the reply to her suggestion came not from Mr. Big but from the enormous polar-bear standing behind him.

"Da, we have considered this…but if was not Red Pig set those fires, who was it, then?" He was lifting his paws in confusion.

Judy blinked and stared for a second. A response like that from Koslov was like a two-hour speech from anyone else. Heck, she couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken more than six words in her presence. Deciding quickly, she directed her answer to Mr. Big rather than him.

"Don Grandi, a mammal in your position must have made more than _one_ enemy over the years…and is it not possible that one of them is also an enemy of the Red Pig?"

 _"There, that was pretty good_ ," she thought—until she noticed that Fru's face was pinched up in a pained expression. Uh, ohhh…

"Yes…but no." Mr. Big had lifted a pair of fingers and was speaking in the scholarly tone of a professor lecturing a pupil. "If a third party wanted to set the Red Pig and myself against each other, he would need to possess a lot more than just simple hatred. It would also require him to have an extreme measure of both ruthlessness and cunning, to say nothing of blood as cold as the Icy Lake." His look became almost contemplative, "Let us suppose, for a moment, that someone were to attempt this scheme and either the Red Pig or myself caught on to it, what do you think would happen?" Judy said nothing, it was a rhetorical question and she knew it. Sure enough, "there are animals out there that might be willing to risk _my_ anger—or that of Peccari—but never both of us at once. In fact," He swirled a paw in the air, "I have known only one individual in my life who possessed that combination of animosity, ingenuity, and audacity—and he's been dead for three years now."

Behind him, Judy saw Koslov's face turn mournful, and watched him raising his fingers to cross himself. Mr. Big noticed it too, and looked up sharply over his shoulder.

"Stop…we do not mourn _that_ animal in this house."

Ooooo…that did it; Judy knew she shouldn't get sidetracked, but…

"Wh-Who are you talking about?"

It was Koslov who answered her.

"McCrodon…'The Mister' James McCrodon, big arms dealer from Zoo York City. You have heard of him, da?"

"I know the name," Judy admitted nodding. A part of her was practically screaming that she needed to move the heck away from this topic and right NOW. And yet…her gut was telling her to stay the course. And so, in the end, she decided to go with her instincts. "What was his problem with you and Mr. Peccari?"

This time, the response came from Mr. Big himself.

"Some years ago, when McCrodon was under indictment by the State of Zoo York and facing a sentence of 25-to-life, he decided to go on the lam." He pointed at the floor, in front of his desk. "I mean here, in Zootopia. In preparation for his escape, he sent one of his brothers to me, offering a million bucks, if I would provide him with sanctuary."

Judy felt an eyebrow cocking upwards and a corner of her mouth with it.

"I take it you told him, thanks but no thanks?"

The arctic shrew's expression became a mirror of her own.

"No amount of money in the world was worth that kind of potential trouble." he said, raising another finger to emphasize the point. "Besides, while I respected The Mister and perhaps even liked him a little, I never, _ever_ trusted him. Letting THAT sea mink inside your territory was like inviting a vampire to spend the night…and so I politely told him 'no'."

"So…let me guess," the doe bunny responded, pulling speculatively at her chin. "He went to the Red Pig next...and got the same answer; am I right?"

The arctic shrew's face crinkled wryly.

"Not quite; when his brother Gerry came to me, he had already been to see Rocco Peccari. But yes, his answer was the same as mine, 'Sorry but I cannot help you.'"

"Uh-huh…and how did he take it?"

Mr. Big rubbed his snout with a finger. "Surprisingly well…or that was what I thought at the time. Gerry even kissed my ring before he left. Of course," he cautioned, the tip of his snout canting upwards, "that was only The Mister's brother, not the Mister himself."

"Okayyy," Judy's nose moved back and forth, as she tried to remember. "But if I recall correctly, didn't The Mister end up _beating_ that case?"

"Yes, he did," the arctic shrew was nodding deeply, "with the help of a Mr. Vernon J. Rodenberg, Attorney at Law." He looked sideways for a second, his mouth stretching into a long scowl. "And THAT is what ultimately set him against the Red Pig and me."

"Huh—how?" Judy was leaning forward and cupping her face in her paws, as if she was listening to a campfire tale. Distraction or not, this was just _too_ good to miss.

Mr. Big's response to this was something else she'd never have expected from him. Turning his gaze upwards, and studying a corner of the ceiling, he drummed his fingers unhappily on the arm of his chair.

"After his acquittal, I… _g'hmmm_ , sent him a note of congratulations in which I… _g'heh,_ claimed to have been the one that had sent Vern Rodenberg to defend him. I uh...hadn't; the rat made the trip on his own initiative. But what I didn't know was that… _g'hmmm_ , The Red Pig has also sent The Mister a message of congrats, saying HE'D been the one who'd asked Rodenberg to represent him." Finally looking in the doe-bunny's direction, he added glumly. "Just my _fortuna,_ both messages happened to arrive at nearly the exact same time."

"I see," Judy said, biting her lip and wishing she had a tail...so she could step on it, to keep from laughing. (Fru had one, but it wasn't helping, she was practically rolling out of her chair.)

"Needless to say this did not go down well with The Mister," Mr. Big was saying, shifting an annoyed glance between his guest and his daughter, "although I didn't know it at the time. About a week later, when Kevin came in to tell me he had James McCrodon on hold, I thought he was calling to thank me. Instead, the first thing I heard when I picked up was…" he stopped abruptly, looking once more at Fru, "Words I will not repeat in front of my daughter…but the next thing he said was, 'You two-faced little jerk, you think you can refuse to help me and then try to CON me? Dirty little punk, I swear by all the saints…if it takes me the next twenny stinkin' lifetimes, I'll _bury_ you for this—you AND stinkin' Porky Peccari. Youse hear me, pipsqueak? I'll throw yers in a hole so deep, they'll have to dig you up on the other side o' the _world!"_

A second ago, Judy had been amused; now she was aghast.

"He threatened to go after both of you _at once_? He must have been out of his mind."

"He was," the arctic-shrew shrugged, "Or he was towards the end; he got hooked on Foxycodone, and between that and all the prescriptions his doctors had him on, it turned his brain to _calamari._ Eventually, it cost him everything…including his life. And he never got near either me, or The Red Pig." His face was painted with the downcast expression of a professional mourner.

"Okay, then..?" Judy started to ask, but then noticed that Fru was shooting her an anxious look. Ri-i-ight, it was time to put this train back on track. "Okay, then getting back to the subject of your troubles with the Red Pig, what do you think will happen to your grandson if you two go to war? You do that and there's no way that little Tony won't end up in the rackets…and _then_ he'll end up like…" (Dangit, what was that wolf's name again?) "...like Tony Lupino, put away for good. Is that what you want?"

Mr. Big's brows shot upwards and she braced herself for a stinging rebuke. But the shrew was only surprised that she knew the name.

"How did you ever hear about…? Never mind, it's not important." He was giving her the talk-to-the-paw-gesture. Fru saw it and started to come unglued again.

"Dangit Daddy, _listen_ to her, she's right; you KNOW she's right. If you and Peccari go to war, my Tony will NEVER get out of 'the life.'"

"I have no CHOICE!" her father said again, slamming his fist on the arms of his chair—and nearly catapulting himself onto the desktop.

 _"All right,"_ Judy took a deep breath and let her paw dangle behind a knee with the fingers crossed. _"Time to play my ace…"_ And she could only hope that it _was_ an ace, and not a four of clubs.

"Don Grandi," she said, clearing her throat, "if I may speak plainly, you must remember that there's another party with an interest here and that's the ZPD. And while I may be just a lowly officer I think I can safely tell you something. The Department is _not_ going to sit quietly on the sidelines if you and the Red Pig declare war on each other; not while there are innocent lives in the cross-fire. We'll do whatever it takes to protect the citizens of Zootopia; I'LL do whatever it takes. That's the oath I swore when I joined the ZPD and I'll honor it, no matter what." She turned her most piercing look on Mr. Big, who gave it right back to her. He must have really been something when he was making his bones on the streets of Tundratown. Did she dare throw down her trump card?

She swallowed hard and played it.

"And God help you both if it's a COP that gets hurt in your turf war; the City will come after you with everything we have and all the Vern Rodenbergs in the world won't be able to keep you from going away…stay where you are, mister!"

She was speaking to the Greenland wolf…who had bared his fangs and was moving towards her.

"Mind your manners, Kjell!" The Big Shrew snapped, shooting an angry finger at his soldier. The wolf backed off as told, but continued to glare balefully at Judy.

"My apologies for the rudeness, Officer Hopps," Mr. Big said to her—in about as unapologetic a voice as she'd ever heard, "But I assure you, I would never allow an officer of the ZPD to become hurt in such a conflict." His gaze turned upwards again, "And, much as it pains me to admit this, neither would the Red Pig."

Judy forced herself not to stare but was unable to keep her nose from twitching. What, now? Didn't he _know?_ Was he not aware of…? Ohhh, Sweet cheez n' crackers, this could be her way inside.

She sat back in her chair, folding her arms and assuming her most haughty expression. "It's a little late to tell me that Mr. Big—because there's ALREADY been a police officer who got hurt because of your conflict with Rocco Peccari." She thumped herself in the chest with a pair of knuckles, "And I should know, because _I_ was that officer; I came that close to being killed in the Tux-on fire!"

"WHAT?!"

Everyone in the room was staring, thunderstruck; Mr. Big, Raymond, the wolf and the tiger; even Fru-Fru was wide-eyed and mouth agape. Holy Carrot Sticks, they really _didn't_ know what had almost happened to her.

"Ohhh Judy, are you all right?" Fru was struggling to get out of her chair again.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry about it," Judy assured her, motioning for her friend to sit down again.

"What happened?" Mr. Big was asking, and this time his contrition was genuine.

Judy gave him the no-frills version.

"It happened while I was chasing a suspect through the alley behind Tux-On. When the roof collapsed, it took down a power pole, and I was nearly electrocuted. I ended up with a minor concussion and had the breath knocked out of me, but like I said," She held up a thumb and forefinger, "it was THAT close."

"But…this fire was set by Red Pig, not by us," the Siberian tiger pointed out in a pitiful growl, earning himself a scornful look from both Mr. Big and Koslov.

"Yes, I know," Judy said, also throwing him a sneer, "and I also know what my dad always says, 'I don't care WHO started it.'" She focused on Mr. Big again, "And neither will the ZPD, if one of our own gets killed in your fight with the Red Pig. If I _had_ died because of the Tux-On fire, you'd BOTH be in jail right now." She didn't know how true that was, but it sure as heck felt that way.

It must have felt that way to Mr. Big too, because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. And that was when Judy knew, she had finally gotten to him. Whoa, you just never could tell; she had walked into this office hoping she had an ace and all along she'd been holding a royal flush. Nearly dying in that alleyway had given her what is known in mob parlance as 'a legitimate beef'—especially since the Big Shrew had been completely unaware of what had happened until now. (And it was a pretty safe bet that if he hadn't known, neither did the Red Pig.) Furthermore it pointed up an undeniable fact; a gang-war is a monster not so easily contained. If, and when, the two mob bosses chose to fight it out, there was no guarantee that another cop wouldn't be caught in the maelstrom.

And if THAT happened…

"Very well, then…" Mr. Big slapped the arms of his chair, and looked straight at her. "I will make one last attempt to extend the olive branch. You may tell the Red Pig that I am willing to accept the possibility—the _possibility_ —that he did not burn down my properties…if he will extend the same courtesy to me. I further propose a cease-fire while we, each of us, look into whether or not another party may have been behind those fires. If he agrees, I will take no further action against either him, the Sahara Square family, or against any of his properties. On my Grandmamma's grave, I swear this."

He held up a paw and behind him Koslov crossed himself again.

But then his face turned hard and icy.

"However, know this, Officer Hopps…if the Red Pig spurns my offer, if he spits on my olive branch; _especially_ if he tries to double cross me, there will be no peace between us. Should even one more of my properties go up in flames…if it is firebombed, if someone lights a match, if it gets hit by a bolt of lightning," He raised a bony finger, pointing it straight at her, "Then I promise you, NOTHING will stay my paw." He leaned suddenly forward, his bushy-browed face suffused with a 'show me' stare. "What is your answer?"

 _"What is..MY…?"_ Judy fell back in her chair with her nose twitching. _"..m-my answer; what the heck is he talking abou…? Oh, Sweet…Oh, my God, is he serious? He wants ME to deliver his message to the Red Pig? How the heck am I even supposed to get in to_ **see** _Rocco Peccari? That maniac won't let ANY police mammal get within a hundred yards of him. So, what chance do_ ** _I_** _have, when I'm one of the cops that helped bust his jewelry store! Ohhhh, did I just get played_ _again?"_

And THAT was when she understood something else; the Tundratown Mob boss was trying to give himself an out. If she turned down his proposal, he could legitimately say to Fru, 'Well, I did my best; I _tried_ to offer a truce to Sahara Square.'

Was that it…or was he simply testing her? Either way…NO way! Mr. Big was only tolerating her presence here because she had once saved his daughter's life. Rocco Peccari, on the other paw, didn't owe her diddly. _And_ he was supposed to be about as even-tempered as a rattlesnake on a hot griddle.

That was when Fru-Fru also caught onto what was happening.

"Daddy no, you can't ask her to do that….it's suicide!"

Judy took a deep breath and slid out of her chair again. And then, walking up to the desk, she stood on her tiptoes, and held out a paw in Mr. Big's direction.

"My answer is, I'll do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The purple diamond theft, mentioned by Fru-Fru, actually happened. What she didn't mention was that it was stolen by way of a confidence trick, much like what the Rafaj Brothers feared Nick might be planning to pull on them. In a nutshell, it was the old bait-and-switch ploy; asking to see the purple diamond and then switching it for a fake while the owners were distracted.


End file.
